


Black Velvet.

by BarPurple



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Impala, Mild Language, No Smut, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cleaning a car never looked so fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Velvet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thunderstorms + Black Velvet by Alannah Myles + 'that' picture of a '67 Chevy Impala, (you know the one I mean;) = 1000+ words of suggestive, but non graphic smut. Enjoy.

The scorching heat of the day had the early evening in a death grip. The bloody orange disk of the setting sun was sinking molasses slow towards the horizon. Sitting in front of the cheap motel Macy plucked at her dress trying to ease the sticky sweaty cling of damp cotton. Further along the forecourt a momma with a baby on her shoulder was dancing listlessly back and forth looking for a hint of a breeze. 

Leaning forward with a soft groan of discontent Macy popped the lid of the cooler at her feet. The ice inside had melted down to a blissfully cold slush that sloshed and clinked as she pulled free a long necked bottle of beer. She scooped up some of the last ice cubes and rubbed them along the nape of her neck. Macy’s sigh of relief became one of disappointment at a pleasure to soon over, as the ice yielded to the heat and dripped away to nothing in her hand. She sat back with a huff and twisted the cap of her beer.

Taking a sip of cold beer she let her eyes follow a pick up truck as it drifted along the highway followed by the dust clouds its tires had stirred up from the parched road. That’s when she noticed the man heading towards the dirt caked Chevy with a bucket in each hand. Macy would have shaken her head if it wasn’t still too hot for anything that involved that much effort. For lack of a better distraction she watched as the tall man squirted detergent into one of the buckets and swirled the contents around with a sponge. 

He rose smoothly to his feet with a sopping sponge in hand, the muscles of his biceps threatening to rip the sleeves of his plain white tee as he stretched and brought the foaming sponge down on the roof of the car. From an open window the sounds of a smooth, slow rock ballad drifted into air and caught the blond haired man in its rhythmic embrace. He swayed gently from side to side as he slicked the foaming sponge lovingly across the roof of the car.

Macy found herself leaning forward slightly in her creaky lawn chair, rapidly warming beer hanging loosely from her hand as a fall of bubbles dribbled down the side of the car only to be chased by the sponge as the man hunkered down and began tenderly cleansing the clinging yellow dirt from the gloss black paintwork of the door panels.

By the time he’d worked his way along the side of the car his shirt was drenched with honest sweat and splashes of water. He rose from his crouch and rolled his shoulders, the translucent cotton pulled taunt across his chest offering a tantalising suggestion of the hard muscles that lay underneath. Macy felt a rush of loathing against that simple stretch of wet white cotton. The sponge slapped wetly into the bucket as it dropped from his hand and her breath caught in her dry throat as his hands went to the hem of the offending shirt; in a second he’d dragged it over his head revealing a tone body that fulfilled all it promised to be. Macy took a slow pull from her blood warm beer as her eyes roved over the tattoo above his heart, while he tucked the rolled tee through his belt above his hip.

The sun was kissing the horizon now, casting a purple and red twilight across the forecourt. The blond hunk was cleaning the far side of the car and Macy’s idle entertainment became a peepshow of glimpsed muscles and suggestive silhouettes. There was a soft evening breeze that hinted at the possibility of a snap summer shower, but Macy found she was as warm now as she had been during the high noon heat of the day. She worried her bottom lip as the hood of the almost clean Chevy came under the focused attention of the blond. He worked the sponge across the slopping metal with sweeping curves that told a story of experience, but held the gentleness of an act of devotion. As the last of the dirt was swiped away Macy sighed and for the first time admired the car as much as she’d been admiring the owner.

The black gloss gleamed darkly in the last rays of the setting sun. Shining chrome took on blood red high lights that pulsed with life as the shadows lengthened. The blond man was standing in front of his pride and joy with his hands on his hips, radiating satisfaction at a job well done. White lightening split the sky and the hinted at summer shower poured from the sky in a warm cascade.

“Son of a bitch!”

The man’s shout of frustration was audible about the pattering rain. He turned on his heel under the warm rain and rolled his eyes at the sky and its appalling timing. With a sigh he sprawled back across the hood of the Chevy, his booted feet planted firmly on the ground and his arms spread wide over dark finish, his chest rising and falling and he drew in deep breaths of cooling rain heavy air.

“Oh, why the hell not?”

Macy muttered to herself as she rushed to her feet, snagging the last two beers from her cooler. She skipped bare foot across the warm slick asphalt towards the Chevy. The blond didn’t appear to notice her approach, but she certainly noticed the way the rain drops were pooling on his torso before trickling down onto the hood. She nudged his splayed leg with a bottle. He sat up swiftly, hands resting loosely between his knees; his head tilted against the slowing spray of rain as he met her eyes. She offered him the bottle with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You look hot.”

A wicked grin lit his face and his tongue swept across his full bottom lip. With a slow nod he took the offered bottle and replied;

“So do you.”


End file.
